Gabriels' Nirvana
by GreatStoneFace
Summary: Survivors try to find peace in a armageddoned America. My first FanFic story. Review please! Even if its rude :
1. Chapter 1

**Please review! I'd like to know what people are thinking of my story. Thank you! :)**

It's the end of the world. One month, two weeks and three days since the presidential announcement that it is confirmed that the virus has infected people worldwide. One month, two weeks and four days since the first time I saw someone get infected with the virus. One month, two weeks and five days since the last time I did feel safe. Two months since the last time I got laid.

The government and whatever else said they are doing all they can to contain the virus. To ensure the safety of U.S. citizens. And yet, I sit here, watching "U.S. citizens" get gunned down by government trained snipers on abandoned buildings. One by one, they aim and fire. No matter the age or condition they're in, they get a bullet screwed into their head. Figures.

I shake my head and sigh. "We're not gettin' in." I shift my weight from one leg to the other and adjust the rifle hanging from my left shoulder, frustrated.

"Well," Bill says through smacking lips, "we could try, huh?"

I turn around to face him, scowling. "You shit faced? Do you not see those people gettin' shot at? We have a lesser chance of gettin' in then they do. I mean, look at us!" I flailed my arms out in pathetic rage.

We were standing on the remains of a collapsed concrete building. The air smelled like burning oil and flesh. Smoke coated the ruin town like morning fog. I examined my little team of everyday people gone S.W.A.T. We all wore camouflage we found in an abandoned supply truck we found at the beginning of all this. Tyrone, the big burnt shaded skin ex-wrestler, wore a set covered in dry blood. He volunteered to wear the dead man's set we found in the front seat, since there were only four sets when we had five people. We all knew he offered so he could look tough and all. But we also knew he was extremely squeamish when he strapped it all on. We road in the gag-inducing truck for thirty-miles until it ran out of gas. We walked day and night until we came across this little town called Buckham. We looked like shit.

Every inch of our skin was covered with something. Dirt, blood, sweat, bandages, waste. Eds' ridiculously large glasses were speckled with grime; every time he rubbed them, something new appeared on them. Bill, with his smacking, squinted eyes and cocked head made him look more redneck then he did in his little country-town of wherever. Pint sized Bobby stared at the ground with a glazed look in his eyes; clothes hanging from his shoulders, a size too large. And for me, I had no idea. But definitely no different from the others.

I look back at the sniper-camped buildings. I could barely make them out behind the shadows. It'd be impossible to pass their blockade. I turn back to the group.

"We'll have to go to the next town, there probably should be one not too far from-"

"What if there isn't a next town?" Ed retorts, stammering.

"He's right, y'know." Billy agreed, smacking vigorously. Tyrone nodded in agreement.

They've always considered me their leader; I got this role by default. But now, it seems, they doubt my authority.

"Well," I shrug, "if you want to try to get passed their guns, be my guest. But, I'm gonna' find me a car."

I looked across the gravel road to a parking lot littered with cars. I point to it, shrugging again.

"Anyone gonna' join me?" I asked.

They all stared, uncertain. I began walking casually to the lot. Not soon after I began my confident stroll, they began to break off and follow me like obedient dogs; one after the other, Bobby first and Ed on our flanks, staring around nervously.

We reached the first car; a Honda of some sort. The windows were smashed and anything not bolted in hard enough was taken out; a passenger seat was missing. Tyrone laughed deeply.

"How would a car seat be useful?" He asked, examining the Honda.

"Well, if ya strap it tuh uh lil' lawn mower, you got yuh-self a lil' go-cart." Bill remarks between obnoxious smacks. He then jumped through the window and began fiddling with the wires.

"How'd that work without a wheel?" Ed asked, pushing his glasses higher up his nose.

"It's uh joke, four eyes." Bill retorts.

"Able to get it started?" I asked, looking around for anything suspicious.

"Nuhuh." He grunts, squirming out the window. "Someone musta' fiddled with it before or somethin'."

I look at the other cars worthy for his odd thievery tricks. I spot a truck a few rows ahead.

"Try that one." I point out.

"Yes, sir." He salutes then swaggers to the truck.

For the first time since the abandoned supply truck, Bobby looks up, wide eyed and staring. Something was wrong.

"What is it?" I ask, following his gaze.

He was staring at a motel down the street. It was tacky, painted with disorienting shades of pink and brown. Most of the windows were smashed and the doors hanging on by a single hitch or completely missing. A light breeze seemed to flutter the drapery in the window. The problem was, there was no breeze.

"Oh, shit." I muttered.

Out from the shadowed room window burst a rotten undead stained with blood. With a screech sounding like finger nails on a chalk board, it charged toward us at full sprint. Its yell was like a calling card. Ten more exploded out of buildings, houses and deep shadows, all sprinting, screaming and snapping their jaws in cannibalistic hunger.


	2. Chapter 2

**After so very, very long, I gots a new chapter! Sorry for the rediculous delay, I have writers block to the max...**

"Bill!" I scream as Bobby and I sprint towards the rest of the group, who were chatting around the truck Bill was trying to start.

"WUT?" Bill yelled from inside the broken window.

"Start the fucking car!" I yelled.

He looked up, annoyed. But his eyes widened when he saw the horde chasing not far behind us.

Bill quickly went back to his wire fiddling and the others jumped in the truck. Bobby dug in his side pack and with difficulty, pulled out a hand grenade.

"Bobby…" I said, panting.

With a click, he pulled off the protector and threw it behind him without looking back, covering his ears as he ran.

"Bobby!"

The explosion knocks me off my feet and sends a ringing in my ear. Suppressed thoughts and memories flooded my mind. I was only out for a second, but it felt longer.

_Dead leaves the shades of natural browns and yellows crunched under my feet. Birds chirped songs of cheerful melodies. Trees towered over my head, their leaves so many shades .Their branches stretching out to one another, shadowing the long road and cooling it. I breathed in deeply, taking in its natural beauty. The air smelled like tree bark and spring water. I stare far off into the distance and focus on a silhouette. My beloved's silhouette._

I snap back groggily. All the peaceful senses replaced and amplified. Bird songs replaced with monstrous screams and growls. The healthy smells of a forest swapped with thick smells of blood and smoke. Feeling nothing but serenity brutally changed to panic and a throbbing head, worsening with each hasty heartbeat. My eyes flooded with light of a desert sun. I looked up to see Tyrone's face; twisted in frustration and worry. He was dragging me by the collar to the truck, where the others were yelling and firing at the close-behind zombies.

I look back and make out the exploded remains of a few zombies. One, finally recovered from the blast, began to limply dash to us, an arm missing and a leg gangling uselessly. Its black eyes fixed on my helpless self. I start cussing hysterically as I scramble for my gun still strapped to my shoulder. I aim shakily at the abominations head and fire. With a final howl it falls, obsolete before it hit the ground.

My victory was short-lived. Another closes in quickly. It lunged forward, aiming for my leg. I aim and fire, the monster falls on my leg, stone gone. I shake it off like a cat to water. The other zombies were far behind, and it gave me just enough to get to my feet. Tyrone helps me up and we both sprint to the truck, afraid to look back. We both jumped into the bed of the truck. With the shake of Tyrone getting in, Bill floors it.

I hold on for dear life as he hits 60 in seconds and continues to accelerate with each moment. I look behind and see the zombies running behind. They were falling over each other from the sheer power of the gravels being shot out from under the tires and dust rising in the air. After a few minutes, they were blurs far behind.

We all loosen our grip on our guns a bit. I sigh and sink to the ground, followed by Tyrone and Bobby. I didn't notice he was back here; the others were crammed in the truck. I look back and forth between them and say breathlessly "Thank you."

They both nod and look down, breathing hard like me. I look at the others in the truck. They all had blank wide-eyed looks. Ed pushed his glasses up more, which wasn't far. Bill seized his smacking and stared stone-faced at the road. I stared up to the sky, hoping to daydream for a moment and forget all of this, but with no luck.

The ride was quiet like this for awhile. Bill and Ed were the first to talk. They chattered first about which highway would be less patrolled by zombies and then about who had a bigger rack, Jessica Simpson or Angelina Jolie. Tyrone gladly joined in. Bobby sat back up and stared out at the brown wastelands we were passing through. I sat up and listened dully to their conversation.

"The only reason Jessica had a big rack was 'cause she got fat later." Bill said through his chewing.

"Well, Angelina had a big rack because she got knocked up." Ed replied.

"Ahh…" Bill nodded.

"There nothing," Tyrone began smirking, "Compared to Halle Berry…"

They all nodded in agreement. Bill licked his chapped lips.

"I'd tap that." Ed blurted suddenly. Bill did a doubled take then laughed.

"The only thing you can tap is a computer."

"Well, I doubt you can tap anything but a car!" Ed replied, red faced.

"Shi-, I tapped a buncha' girls before this."

"Were they all fat?" I retorted smiling.

Bill looked back at me for a second then back to the road.

"Yes," he muttered, "but that's not the point! At least I've gotten something! Gabriel my good bud, have you gotten anything?"

"Of course." I replied, not paying much attention.

"Was she fat?"

"What? No!" I snapped.

"Well, what'd she look like?"

"She was…" I trailed off, the questions were hitting hard in the chest.

Bill grew silent. Ed had been messing with the CD player for awhile until finally it ejected a album. Ed examined it. "Nirvana."

"Really?" Billy asked.

"Yep." Ed replied, polishing the album.

"Put it back in, used tuh listen to 'em back in the day."

Ed carefully inserted the CD and, miraculously, it played. It started with a base solo, then the drums and Kurt Kobains legendary voice;

"_I'm so happy. 'Cause today I found my friends._

_They're in my head. I'm so ugly, but that's ok._

'_Cause so are you."_

Everyone remains quiet for a few songs. Staring off into the wastes or examining rusty signs. Ed occasionally picked grime off his glasses. Tyrone examined the dirt under his boots. Bobby continued his gaze out to nowhere. Bill focused on the road. And for me, I don't know. I could be doing anything for all I care when I'm thinking of her. When I'm thinking of Chloe.

Bill later blurted out. "You know what Nirvana means?"

Nobody replied, careless.

He snorted, "It means….ah, what _did_ it mean…"

"Completely enjoyable experience."

It was Bobby, we all looked at him. We didn't even know he was paying attention. He looked at us.

"Well, that's what it's supposed to mean."

"Yeah that's right." Bill responded.

Tyrone "Heh" 'd and Ed skipped a song. Bobby went back to whatever he was thinking. Not seconds later, Ed pointed out his window and shouted "Look!"

On the far right side of the road was a handmade cardboard sign saying "SURVIVOR CAMP: 15 MILES. INSPECTION ONCE AT GATES."

"What're the odds?" Bill yelled.

"Don't complain," I said, "keep goin'."

Bill hauled ass to our destination. We all stood straight and examined the wastes for the so called camp. All our hopes high with the thought of finally having food, water, and a hot shower.


	3. Chapter 3

It wasn't long until we found the camp. The camp was outside of an old jail three stories high. The once white washed walls not recoiling to reveal old brick, the barred windows rusted. It looked like one of the slum areas of the world. Rows of tents stretch all over, filled with all kinds of refugees. It was surrounded by a wired fence, with people on guard duty every 10 feet around it. The only gate was closed and heavily wired and guarded. We all froze, worried if we could even get in. Bill slowly approached the gate; the men guarding the gate tightened their grips on their guns and eyed us suspiciously. A heavier man sitting on a foldable chair under a large tent with other chatting guards slowly stood up and waddled up to the driver's window. Bill rolled down his window nervously, smiling awkwardly.

"Where you all from?" The butterball asked, sweat dripping down his forehead from the blistering heat.

"We are….uh…uh." Bill mumbled pointing shakily back down the dirt road.

I sighed and walked across the truck bed to the man. He looked startled and breathed in deep, a guardsmen aimed at me, not taking any chances. I stared at him for a moment; the guy was all muscle. His dirt and sand covered cammo stretched over his rippling pecks. A stony glare lengthened shadows over his hateful eyes. I looked back at the pudgy guy, unshaken by the guardsman's hostile behavior.

"We're from out of town," I began, "and all over. It's best we keep it at that since I've been known to run-on and the others here are a bit buzzed from the heat so they'll just ramble like my friend here."

The man nodded and looked at Bill again. Bill continued his toothy smile and waved awkwardly. The man nodded.

"You guys plan on staying here long? We're as packed as Tokyo right now."

"We just want food, a bed for a night and a shower," I continued. I looked at the hostile guardsman, "then we'll be on our way." The guardsman continued his cold stare in the blistering heat.

"Very good," The fat one said, "any weapons?"

I nodded and motioned the guys to empty. They jumped out of the car reluctantly. Two guardsmen from under the tent came by with a large box with a lock. We unloaded our artillery, each drop tightening the guardsmen's grip on the box. It looked like we had emptied all our pockets, but the guards looked at Bobby expectantly; he hadn't emptied his pockets yet. I sighed.

"Bobby?"

While still looking at the ground, he took his rifle off his left shoulder. After flinging his rifle into the box, he began to clear his abyss-like pockets. The guards' eyes widened with the sight of how many grenades Bobby was pulling out of _one_ vest pocket. After the thirty grenades were successfully taken out, Bobby pulled a revolver out of one pants pocket, pistol from another, and finally, with difficulty, a long machete wrapped in bandanas out from under his shirt.

"So that's where my bandanas went…" Bill whispered.

The men very carefully closed the box and locked it. They then shakily brought it to a four-wheeler and drove off to the camp. We all then looked at the chubby man, who had a very serious look on his face.

"One final question," he asked slowly, "have any of you ever been bitten?"

We all knew the answer was no, but it took me a moment to answer. It was because of the importance of that one question. It was the matter of life and death for all the refugees. One infected toddler could wipe out the entire camp. For all we knew, this was probably the last open survivors' camp in America.

"No." I said clearly.

The man stared at each of us thoughtfully; then smiled.

"Very good. Welcome to the survivors camp! You can take your truck inside and look for a tent either in the jail or outside. The showers are on the far side of the building. Food's given out once a day due to shortage. When you're ready to leave, go to where the main office is."

I nodded appreciatively and motioned the guys to get back into the truck. They gladly did so; getting back into their spots before. Only when we were 100 yards away did the one very hostile guardsman lower his weapon, but continued to glare at us. I stared at him for a long time, confused. I know times are hard, hell, extremely hard, but this man looked like he had a bigger thirst for our blood then the cannibalistic undead.

I turned my attention to Bobby, who was picking the rust off the bed of the truck. It is hard to tell what mood Bobby is in, since his face is almost always expressionless. The whole end of the world thing didn't come as a big blow to him, I always thought this is what he looked like when he was in high school, slowly trudging through the halls just getting through the day without someone asking him what was wrong was probably an achievement for him. But after being with him longer than the others, I could start to tell when something was troubling him. The mindless rust picking was one giveaway, but the other took a keener eye. The lines in-between his eyebrows thickened and the way he was sitting looked odd; something unlike Bobby. He was always staring off somewhere, deep in thought. I tried to catch his gaze, he looked up once, then back at the bed.

"What's wrong?" I asked wearily.

He looked up, annoyed, and then down again.

"I don't trust these people." He muttered lowly, I barely made it out over the roar of the engine.

"Yeah, this place is a bit off. But we haven't eaten in awhile and had a decent place to sleep so we should take any chance we got." He stilled looked worried.

"We'll be out of here by tomorrow." I assured him. "Hell, they'll be glad we're gone!"

He huffed and smirked a bit, but it faded seconds later. I sighed and looked ahead. We were close enough to hear the many people and see the crude conditions. The tents were poor and made of wood and tarp. Every single tent was filled. No one tried to make it homey. Dirt crusted the tarps and ancient sleeping bags. They people looked insane. Some just sat there, either in fetal position or Indian, usually rocking. I saw one woman in a very small tent, holding a blood covered baby blanket, cooing to it softly.

I grew weary over the horrific sight.

"Just park outside the tent area. There's no way we'll find tents for all of us. We'll have to sleep in the truck" I said.

Bill nodded in agreement parked on the farther side of the camp. We all jumped out and looked around the camp a bit.

"What we gonna' do first?" Ed asked.

"Well," I replied, "we should find out where the food and showers are then head back here."

"Someone will need to watch the truck." Bill said, glaring at the refugees.

I nodded. "Any volunteers?"

Everyone grew quiet. I sighed.

"I'll do it." Tyrone replied, puffing out his chest. "Nobody would wanna' try to steal this truck with me around." He said proudly. Bill rolled his eyes.

I smiled and nodded. "Alright, we'll try to bring you some food back and I guess you could go to the showers after us."

He saluted and jump back into the bed of the truck. I motioned the other to follow me to the jail. It wasn't a straight shot to the jail. We had to walk over a few people lolling around. After seeing the condition of some of the people I doubted the showers worked and the food was good. We walked through doors which lead to the main jail cells. There were a lot of people in here as well, it was much noisier. I searched around and saw one sign pointing down a hall that said showers and another in a different direction down the hall which said food. I turned to the guys.

"We'll have to split up to make this a bit faster. Bill and I will go to the showers; you guys figure out where there food is and try to get enough for all of us. Agreed?"

They all nodded slowly. Without a second glance I walked across the many indoor tents to the halls that lead to the showers, Bill close behind.

We were all heading back to the truck when Bill started chattering about the filthy state of the showers.

"That place gave a whole new meaning the saying 'Don't drop the soap'"

"You actually found soap?" Ed exclaimed.

"Yer, a lil' spec of it."

"I don't even feel clean." I replied, shaking my head. "So, got anything good from the market?" I asked, hopeful.

"Pssh." Ed retorted. He rummaged through the paper bag he was carrying and read the labels.

"Canned beef, sweet peas, green beans, chili and…cat food."

"Well, at least we got a variety." I mumbled.

"I'll take the cat food." Bill said, licking his lips. Bobby and I stared at him.

"What?" He said. "It's basically like tuna." He shrugged.

I laughed lowly and smiled. "Bill, will you ever seize to amaze us?"

"Of course not!" He replied proudly.

When we got back to the truck, it was already dark. Tyrone was snoring loudly in the back of the truck. Bill shook the truck harshly.

"Morning sleepy head!" He shouted.

Tyrone awoke with a loud snort. He looked at each of us drowsily.

"How were the showers?" He yawned.

"Cold and brown." Ed replied.

"And the food?"

Bill held up the cat food can. "Just like mother used to make."

Tyrone groaned and stretched. "Guess I'll take mine now, see y'all in awhile." He slumped out of the truck and stiffly walked to the jail. We all jumped into the bed of the truck. Bill pulled out a lighter and the last pack of cigarettes we had. Bobby pulled out a pocket knife and opened our chosen cans; I got the sweet peas by default. We all smoked and ate in silence. We later chattered on about everything; where we lived, what was our family like, who we lost our virginity to and finally, our last love.

"My girl was sweet, but had a major appetite. I really think the only reason she dated me was cuz' my Pa ran an Ihop." Bill said, heartily.

"My girlfriend was great," Ed began. "We both worked at a computer store. We did pretty much everything together. Well, to our parents' extent, heh…How about you Bobby?"

Bobby just shrugged.

"Ok…Gabriel?"

They all looked at me. I sighed.

"I was dating my girlfriend since college. We had a class together. At first it was just glances at each other. Then we started talking, went to movies, slept in each other's dorms. After college we decided to get an apartment together. I worked at a drugstore; she worked in a dentist office as an assistant." I looked up, no willing to go on. But they all stared at me, expecting more, even Bobby.

I sighed and continued. "After a year and half, I proposed to her on a carousel at a local fair," I smiled, but it soon faded. "We were both working when we heard about the out-brake, we headed home and began packing. She got a call from her mother saying she was scared and needed her. I wanted to disagree. We planned on going to my parents in North Dakota. 'I'll be back soon.' She told me. But uh….she never did.

"It had been a few hours so I started heading there. The only road leading into her mom's town was blocked by the police. I asked what happened. 'The towns' over-run.' One cop said. 'We've heard explosion and some comin' out said half the town has caught fire.' I asked if any of the people coming out had hip length blonde hair. They said no. I…I tried to get through but they pushed my back. A large group of undead ran through. I tried to sneak past them but some saw me and chased me for a long time. I stole a car and drove off….and that's when I saw Bobby…"

I looked up again. Their expressions were now pity. I didn't like how they were looking at me, I wanted to get away.

"I'm uhh…gonna' go talk to the guards, see how their holding up."

I slowly got out of the truck, leaving my cigarette behind. It was long until my face was wet with tears. With each sob my footsteps got shorter apart until I slumped to the ground; tears running hot down my neck. I stared up at the sky. The moon shined brightly over the velvety, star studded night. I dug in my pocket and pulled out my ring, it was a simple silver band. I thought of hers. She loved the moon, so I got a ring that reminded her of it. The diamond was nearly a perfect circle; on the silver band it had indentations matching the craters of the moon. She fell in love with it at first glance. I clenched my fist so hard over my ring that my nails dug into my skin, causing me to bleed. I threw the ring and then dug my nails in the dirt, still sobbing. I wished I was dead. There was nothing left for me in this world. I didn't care about the guys anymore. I just wanted to lay there until I die. I asked God why, why did he take someone so close to me away? I guess this was his message to us that he doesn't care anymore. I thought of that band we listened to, Nirvana. Chloe was my only completely enjoyable experience. But she was stripped from me. I didn't even say goodbye to her.


End file.
